Falling off the wagon

Today I cracked. I’m not actually sure why. I wasn’t feeling particularly stressed out.

I just really really wanted a cigarette.

So, on my lunch break at work, I went to do my usual weekly shop at the supermarket around the corner. On my way out, I brought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter at the lottery counter. Cue hearing what no one doing something they don’t particularly want to be caught doing wants to hear:

“I didn’t expect to find you here!”

Busted. By none other than the blokes mother. Standing at the counter waiting for my cash back, cigarettes and lighter on the counter in front of me like a beacon of ‘Look who fell off the wagon-ness.’


We proceeded in typically British fashion, of course. Neither of us made mention of what was on the counter in front of me, and exchanged pleasantries. Then I excused myself with the reasoning of having to get back to work, now I’d done my weekly shopping, frantically gesturing at my fully laden shopping trolley. Trolleys give legitimacy in panicked moments, see. That’s logic!

I haven’t quite decided how much trouble on a scale of 1-10 I may now be in.

I probably would have confessed to the bloke anyway, but now I suppose I should regardless. As an adult, I am responsible for my own poor decisions, as well as the consequences. Or something.

I suspect that I will soon be getting tutted at by a few people in my life. Which is fair after all the bragging, I guess. I only smoked one of the things in the end before throwing away the rest of the packet in disgust. So not worth it, and I’m pretty annoyed at myself.

I’ll get back on the wagon, and back to being self-righteously smug as soon as possible.

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